Musings by The Poet Loriet
Teach Your Children Well
My nine year old daughter
and I sighed our weary bodies
into the hospital elevator.
Three shady-looking men
lurked in the back corner...
the most formidable
with long hair, wild eyes,
body pierced in more places
than I have underwear,
and a continuous mural
of body art
covering every
visible inch of skin.
I stood there, stand-offish
as my daughter smiled
an enthusiastic "HI!"
The "bad man" smiled back,
and I had to admit...
he had a nice smile
that reached his eyes--
not the fakey tolerant kind
the well-dressed woman
in a business suit
gave us moments before.
My chatty little Morgan
turned to him...
"I have brand new twin
cousins, a boy and a girl
born yesterday...
but the little boy
has a bad heart defect.
He's in open heart surgery
right now, and only has
a 50% chance of living."
I watched
the-man-I-wasn't-going-to-speak-to
as a tear filled his eye,
spilling onto his cheek,
leaving a tell-tale path
on his newly-softened face.
He glanced at his buddies
and in a split-second gesture,
leaned down til he was level
with my little girl...
"We're going to the chapel
right now to say a prayer
for your cousin"...
I smiled proudly
at her, already playing, singing,
unaware of the lesson
she had just taught
her wise old mother.
Lori Beal
and I sighed our weary bodies
into the hospital elevator.
Three shady-looking men
lurked in the back corner...
the most formidable
with long hair, wild eyes,
body pierced in more places
than I have underwear,
and a continuous mural
of body art
covering every
visible inch of skin.
I stood there, stand-offish
as my daughter smiled
an enthusiastic "HI!"
The "bad man" smiled back,
and I had to admit...
he had a nice smile
that reached his eyes--
not the fakey tolerant kind
the well-dressed woman
in a business suit
gave us moments before.
My chatty little Morgan
turned to him...
"I have brand new twin
cousins, a boy and a girl
born yesterday...
but the little boy
has a bad heart defect.
He's in open heart surgery
right now, and only has
a 50% chance of living."
I watched
the-man-I-wasn't-going-to-speak-to
as a tear filled his eye,
spilling onto his cheek,
leaving a tell-tale path
on his newly-softened face.
He glanced at his buddies
and in a split-second gesture,
leaned down til he was level
with my little girl...
"We're going to the chapel
right now to say a prayer
for your cousin"...
I smiled proudly
at her, already playing, singing,
unaware of the lesson
she had just taught
her wise old mother.
Lori Beal
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Teach Your Children Well
Teach Your Children Well
